By Kathy Y. Wilson

· Chocolate Genius -- Black Music (V2 Records). Chocolate Genius (AKA Marc Anthony Thompson) is a former Broadway musical arranger/producer who won a Tony Award for his work on the Great White Way. And for every big sound he must have created for theater productions, Chocolate Genius has flipped the script, using the antithesis of the unbearable brightness of hearing to evoke near-whispering scenarios of love found, juggled and lost and the excesses that drive us to somehow manage to screw up our lives over and over and over again. Black Music is a taut, personal cycle of songs disproving the thought that all love songs are sentimental mush ("Half a Man," "Hangover Five," "Hangover Nine" and "Stupid Again") and that black men cannot bare their souls and talk/sing eloquently about their mothers without sacrificing manhood or appearing like punks ("My Mom"). In the liner notes, Chocolate Genius calls these songs "greasy little hymns." I agree. If his name and album title sound a trifle too obnoxious or arrogant, the subtleties will win you over. On some cuts, there is the slightest sound of a chair creaking under the weight of its inhabitant as he lazily leans back to play the guitar. The musicianship -- courtesy of Abe Laboriel Jr., Marc Ribot and John Medeski, among others -- is quietly funky. But it never obscures the album's most precious gems -- the lyrics. This is most eloquently and hauntingly apparent on the album's best track, "My Mom." He describes the antiquity and clutter of his boyhood home before visually moving into the bedroom where his bedridden mother, dying of an unnamed disease, lays waiting for him, not remembering him. "It's been five years and some change/And this world is gettin' so strange/But this house smells just the same and my mom ... my sweet mama, she don't remember my name." The music moves about the lyrics like a death march, the guitars barely being picked, the keys barely being touched. On other songs, Chocolate Genius makes musical references to Oasis (who, of course, knock off The Beatles who, of course, knocked off everyone before them). Then again, sometimes he sounds like Bobby Womack, Bob Dylan, Prince and even Isaac Hayes. But, as his last cut says, "It's all good." Besides the deceptive simplicity of the music, the beautiful and ironic part about this album is that it easily could have been called Chocolate Music by Black Genius. It's that good.
CityBeat grade: A.

· Darwin Hobbs -- Mercy (EMI Gospel). In black churches, those who move the congregation and breathe life into the Scripture with the sheer force of their praying, preaching or singing prowess are known as "anointed." In 1990, when my middle brother got married at Christ Emmanuel Christian Fellowship in Walnut Hills, Darwin Hobbs and his now-wife, Traci, sang. Chills sprang up the back of my neck. I was awed because Hobbs can "sang," as they say where I'm from. The man is anointed. His presentation is not merely a flashy show, like many other Contemporary Gospel singers. In other words, there's not a lot of indecipherable screaming and yelling. That's because Hobbs, a Cincinnati native now in Nashville, is immersed in the Gospel and considers singing to be his ministry or his way of delivering the message of Jesus Christ to believers and non-believers alike. Unfortunately, there are but a handful of cuts on Mercy wherein he delivers the goods or the Good News. The problem here is that Hobbs' producers -- of which there are several -- may have seen him as fledgling, or worse yet, someone who needed to be molded in a prefab image to quickly win over listeners. In short, they failed to capture his power and energy, relying instead on gimmicks and short cuts. But Gospel is no different than any other genre of music: If performers "keep it real," listeners will come around. Instead, Hobbs comes off sounding like his producers and not himself. For example, Fred Hammond, formerly of Commissioned, gives his assigned cuts the "Hammond stamp" -- squatty, contemporary bass lines, rhyming couplets and upbeat, canned tempos. Hobbs shines brightest when he is backed by a full choir and is allowed to stretch his baritone fully across lyrics exalting his Lord and Savior. While it happens during his live performances, it doesn't happen on Mercy. But if we hang in with Hobbs while he finds the one producer that'll let him be him, we'll be blessed.
CityBeat grade: C.

· Darren Barrett -- First One Up (J Curve). The cuts on this straight ahead, Hard Bop date on Cincinnati's J Curve label are like hard candies with chewy centers. There's a surprise in every tune. At first bite they alternate between rumble/tumble ("First One Up" and "Up Down-Inside Out") and lilting ("Grand Ravine" and "Dee's Theme."). Yet, chew deeper and there exists deep, dark nuances beneath the shells. This album is reminiscent of the early recordings of saxophonist Donald Harrison and trumpeter Terrence Blanchard when they were fresh from New Orleans. Trumpeter Darren Barrett, winner of the prestigious 1997 Thelonious Monk International Jazz Competition, leads a sure and muscular group of musicians including alto saxophonist Kenny Garrett, one of the best blowers of postmodern Jazz. Garrett wails/sails away on three tracks. Garrett, drummer John Lamkin and pianist Aaron Goldberg trade seriously superb fours on "Up Down-Inside Out," pushing each other to musical extremes to the point of staccato explosion. On that same tune, Barrett is a smart leader, flourishing and shadowing Garrett while letting the rhythm section stretch. Tenor and soprano saxophonist Jimmy Greene handles his horn ably on all other tracks, most notably on Thelonious Monk's "Reflections." On "Conceta Alfreda," Barrett gets sexy without resorting to clichés or laziness. Overall, it's the group's effort, propelled by Goldberg, Lamkin and bassist Reuben Rogers, that gives First One Up its identity as a collection of strong, identifiable soon-to-be Jazz Standards. All but two were composed by Barrett. Own this.
CityBeat grade: A.

E-mail Kathy Y. Wilson

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